


Two Minutes, Two Years

by oneatatime



Category: Power Rangers in Space
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-12-15 03:31:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11797521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneatatime/pseuds/oneatatime
Summary: Andros and Zhane have a talk after Zhane recharges his morpher.





	Two Minutes, Two Years

**Author's Note:**

  * For [borrowedphrases](https://archiveofourown.org/users/borrowedphrases/gifts).



There was something in the mental atmosphere of Andros’ room. Something that Zhane was stoutly ignoring, because it didn’t fit in with the general atmosphere of celebration and happiness and he really didn’t want to deal with it. 

It was harder to ignore, though, when the others said their goodbyes and walked (TJ), loped (Carlos), strode (Ashley) and bounced (Cassie) off to bed respectively. Ashley gave him a kiss on the cheek in passing, and not to be outdone, so did Carlos. Zhane sighed as they left, and gamely stuck a smile to his face. 

Andros twirled his straw in his drink. It was a magnificent confection of icecream, whipped cream, multicoloured syrups, and something fizzy at the bottom. Zhane had no idea what most of it was and figured he was better off not knowing. TJ was a man of surprising depths at times. 

Didn’t look like Andros’d had any. 

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Andros said. His sense of fairness was one of the most annoying things about him, Zhane thought. Yeah, sometimes Andros’ anxieties got the better of him and kind of turned into saying stupid jealous stuff, but for the most part? Even when he was practically incandescent with rage and misery so strong that it was giving **Zhane** a headache, he still tried to say the right thing.

“Me, too,” Zhane said airily. “Glad I can fight for more than two minutes.” Might as well get this over with. He sat down next to his best friend on the bed and bumped shoulders with him, which. . . didn’t entirely disguise the twitch in the hand that held his own half-empty drink. 

Andros grabbed his wrist, took the glass from him and plonked it on the nightstand with his own. He gave Zhane a **look**. 

Zhane shook his head. “I’m fine.”

~Twitch~

“Dammit!”

Andros’ fingers were firm around his wrist. He scowled at Zhane. It was offset fetchingly by a strand of hair falling down over his face. Then he began massaging Zhane’s hand, strong thumbs working into his palm. “You electrocuted yourself. You need to get a complete physical check. You could’ve _died._ ”

“I didn’t.” 

“But you could have.” 

Zhane’s attempt at placating began to dribble away as his frustration began to build. He didn’t move, though. He – he needed to be touched right now. Especially by Andros. “But I _didn’t,_ Andros! It was necessary. You’re worrying too much!” 

“Sure, yeah, that’s me. I’m too fussy. Everything’s fine, we’ve never lost all our friends, never dealt with someone being in a cryo tube for two years and not being sure if he’d ever wake up-“

Andros’ voice cracked on the last word, and he pressed the heel of one hand into his forehead. Guiltily cursing himself for a dumbass, because he’d known he was worrying Andros - but it was still necessary so he’d ignored the worry - Zhane hauled him into a sideways hug. 

“I’m here,” he said quietly, then repeated it mentally. Not in words, so much, though they were capable of communicating in words when necessary. He went down to the deeper levels, the parts of their link that he hadn’t really explored since waking up. (Too scared, maybe.) The parts where it was... not impossible, but very difficult to pretend. He opened himself, letting his presence wash over Andros, as Andros covered his eyes with a hand and leaned sideways into him. 

Andros was a pebble in his stream at first, resisting, then he opened himself slowly too.

Zhane winced. Andros was raw and jagged, and Zhane’s breathing began to quicken as he flowed around him. Zhane had his own hurts, of course. Losing everyone two years ago. TJ and the others were great, but they weren’t replacements for Suri, Stavan, Qell, Pon. Worry about KO-35, and Zordon. Worry about *Andros*, who hadn’t exactly been coping great with everything, same as Zhane, when Zhane went under. Worry about his best friend, who was now a thousand times more brittle and closed off, and a thousand times worse at admitting when he needed help. 

But Andros also had two long years of being alone, which was only recently alleviated when the other four – and Alpha - forced their way into his life. There were flashes of images. Andros sleeping on the floor next to the cryo tube. Andros sitting cross legged, leaning back against it, talking a little, then being silent. 

Andros shuddered against him, and cried. Probably for the first time in more than two years. 

_Don’t go anywhere I can’t follow._

“I don’t want to,” Zhane murmured back, his own voice shakier than he’d like. “But I can’t be useless. I can’t.“

Andros turned in his arms. His eyes were bloodshot and miserable, and Zhane’s heart twisted in his chest again. “You don’t have to be ‘useful’. Being around is useful! Being conscious is useful!” 

His mouth found Zhane’s with desperation, and Zhane lost himself in the kiss. 

“You still want me?” he said, stupidly, when Andros broke off so they could both breathe. Andros was still holding back sobs from the force of his own emotions. The air was like shards of glass in Zhane’s throat. He’d gone so long without having to talk about any of this. 

“...why wouldn’t I?” 

“Because everything’s changed?” 

Andros snorted. “Not THAT much.”

Zhane cupped Andros’ face with a hand, the pads of his fingers straying back into Andros’ soft hair. He ran his thumb delicately along the cheekbone to wipe away the tears. Then he tried to beat himself in the ‘dumbest things said today’ competition. “Huh.” 

There was a jolt of nervousness, a fizzle of silver-bright against his nerves, and Zhane shook his head. “Don’t do that! Of course I want you. I just figured... maybe you and the others... I didn’t want to assume, y’know? You have a right to be happy, and I was gone for two years.” 

Two.

Years.

“Wasn’t your fault,” Andros said sharply, and this was another of the really stupid annoying things about Andros. The times when he saw right through you to the things you didn’t want him to see. The fact that Zhane wasn’t trying to hide any of it from Andros was completely irrelevant. 

Zhane shrugged uncomfortably. The fingers at Andros’ waist twitched. “Still. And I know you got angry at me about it. I would’ve been _pissed_ at you, if you’d saved me like that.” 

_Please don’t stop me from fighting with you._

Andros’ face softened, and then he shoved Zhane down onto the bed, his hands gripping Zhane’s wrists above his head. “As long as you promise not to do anything that stupid again.” _I can’t lose you._

“Hey, I’m not the only stupid one on this bed,” Zhane protested, but he wasn’t exactly fighting. This was a good position, with Andros straddling him. This was far better than he’d expected it to end up. “Sometimes we gotta do stupid things to keep going!” 

Andros sighed. “Okay, fine. No lightning storms, then. For either of us. Unless it’s entirely unavoidable. Any more two year breaks have to be taken together.” 

“Deal,” Zhane agreed, and then Andros’ mouth met his and he forgot all about anything but Andros for the next couple hours.


End file.
